Avalon's Glory III
by Aesop
Summary: BTVS/Gargoyles 9:  The Key has been activated, scattering humans and gargoyles across worlds known and unknown.


AVALON'S GLORY III

Gonna Have a Revolution

DISCLAIMER:  I don't own any of the characters from Gargoyles or BTVS and don't make any money off of this, so don't bother suing. This is just for fun. This story takes most of season five into account.  My thanks to StorySeeker for the basic idea and the help he provided by beta reading my work.

SUMMARY:  The Key has been activated and scattered gargoyles and humans across worlds known and unknown.  Buffy and Cyril of the Avalon clan find themselves aiding a besieged clan while trying to find their way home.

Cyril winced as he struggled upright.  What happened?  Where was he?  Wherever it was, the light was so bright that he was nearly blinded when he opened his eyes.  "Where am I?"  He looked down at the source of the voice, surprised to find it coming from a weight on his chest that he had barely noticed before, but then remembered that the Slayer had been with him.

She was sprawled on top of him.  Buffy's eyes widened when she realized where she was and the awkward position she was in and quickly rolled away.  "Uh sorry.  I should really watch where I'm falling," she joked.

"Quite all right," he assured her while quickly rising.  "As to where we are… I'm not certain.  Why is it so bright?"

"Huh?"  Buffy glanced over at her unwitting traveling companion and discovered that his eyes were tightly shut.  "Open your eyes."

"Trying," he answered, shading his eyes with a hand and gradually cracking them.  "What manner of light is this?  Is the palace burning?"  The Slayer stared at him in bewilderment, and after a moment he understood why.  There was no fire.  There was no palace.  The light was coming from what he realized could only be the sun.  He gasped, raising his eyes to take in the wondrous sight and instantly regretted it.  "Ahh.  So bright.  I never knew the sun would be like this!"

"Try suns, plural.  There are two of them up there."  Something occurred to her belatedly.  "Hey, aren't gargoyles supposed to sleep during the day?"

"Indeed we are.  I do not understand this.  It could be that sunlight here is different in some way."

"Could be," Buffy murmured in a non-committal tone, "but the big question is where is here?"

"It's not Avalon, nor any part of the outside world, not with two suns."

"Not ours anyway.  We must have gone through one of Dawn's portals."  A glance around the meadow they found themselves in, however, failed to reveal anything that looked like a way home.  They weren't left to contemplate the problem for long though, before a new one came to their attention.  

"Horses," Buffy pointed, "coming from that direction."

"Perhaps we'll get some answers."

"Or perhaps we'll be attacked.  Might be a good idea to get out of sight till we know who we're dealing with."  She led the way to the nearest copse of trees.  She detested the idea of hiding, but there was too much they didn't know about their situation, so caution, for the moment, had to dictate their actions.  A group of armored demons rode out of the trees.  Their skin was pale gray and the chain mail they wore provided an odd sort of echo to the horses' hooves.  

Buffy watched as they rode by, not planning to reveal herself, but then she saw something the changed her mind.  Following behind the demons was an animal drawn cart with several bound human prisoners.  They were a ragged looking bunch, and some had clearly been beaten into submission.

"Criminals?" Cyril ventured hopefully.

"Slaves," Buffy answered with certainty.  "Or maybe sacrifices."  The gargoyle sighed.  He had known that.  It couldn't be simple after all.  They moved silently along what appeared to be an animal track, paralleling the riders while Buffy worked out the best strategy for freeing the prisoners.

A sound from above derailed that train of thought.  The sound of wings followed by a roar, unlike anything she had heard before.  "Gargoyles!" Cyril breathed and Buffy looked up to see five winged figures swoop down on the riders brandishing a variety of weapons.

The battle was quickly and furiously joined.  The first rank of demons was swept from their mounts, thoroughly taken by surprise.  Those riding behind caused their horses to rear, slashing the air and one unfortunate gargoyle with roughshod hooves.  

Cyril darted forward as the horse began to descend and pulled the fallen gargoyle from harm's way.  Buffy grabbed the rider by the arm that held a sword, taking a moment to be impressed that the rider had held his seat and drawn a weapon at the same time.  The admiration didn't keep her from yanking him from his saddle though, or throwing him as hard as she could against a tree.  Snatching up his sword, she moved quickly to the next rider who was only beginning to draw his weapon, she thrust her borrowed blade into his unprotected side.

Then she had passed the soldiers and was at the cage.  Two quick slashes opened the crude gate while a glance to the side showed the remaining gargoyles making short work of the demons.  Cyril was watching in astonishment and fending off any attempts on the wounded gargoyle.  They were, Buffy had to admit, very efficient; the battle was soon over.  

Upon landing, the gargoyle that was apparently in charge came toward Cyril.  "We thank you for the aid friend.  Of what Hold are you?"

"Hold?  I am from the Avalon clan."  At the blank look he hastened to explain.  "I doubt you would know it.  My friend and I are a long way from home."  The leader turned to look at Buffy who was helping the last of the prisoners out of the cage.  

"Friend?"  The gargoyle gave her a distinctly unfriendly look.  "This cow is your friend?"

"Watch who you're calling cow," Buffy objected.  The gargoyle, a brown-skinned male with two straight horns rising from his brow ridge, ignored her, still looking at Cyril for answers.

"Yes she is."  He frowned.  "I don't understand.  "You attacked these creatures to save the humans didn't you?"

The other glanced at the humans who were making rapid progress away from the group of gargoyles and snorted disdainfully.  "They know the location of our Hold.  Humans themselves are harmless, cowardly vermin, but as slaves they might betray the location of our home to the new king's forces."

"This king is your enemy?"  The other gargoyles looked at him strangely.  

"You must be from far away indeed not to know of the Grusulug.  He became king after the priesthood was overthrown."  He gave a growl of frustration.  "We had hoped that things might change under a new ruler, but we have traded one tyrant for another."

"He said he would do away with the injustices of the past," a small gray female with wings like Lexington's growled, "but, if anything, the situation has gotten worse."

"Enough," the leader raised his hand to forestall a third from chiming in.  "We should not burden our new friend with our problems.  Come, you will be our guest at our Hold.  We long for news of other gargoyles.  The nearest Hold to our own is a week's travel away."

"We would be honored," Cyril replied inclining his head.  The leader glanced at Buffy.

"The c…human may not feel welcome there.  We have not gotten on well with them in the past.  There will be none of her own kind there."

"If she is not welcome," Cyril answered without hesitation or apparent ire, "then I must decline your invitation.  We are far from home and need to find our way back."

"Very well," he answered after a moment's thought.  "We cannot turn away another gargoyle.  The human will be welcomed."

"Thanks so much," Buffy muttered.

Cyril carried Buffy, ignoring the odd looks he received, to the top of the cliff where the clan made its home.  It was inaccessible to anyone without wings. The sight that greeted them was incredible.  The area, they soon learned from their hosts, was a large mesa that was thought by most to be barren and unlivable.  What most did not know was that the mesa concealed a small lake around which a forest had grown.  The clan had carved their homes out of the rock.  Dozens of gargoyles going about their business in the bright sunlight made for an incredible sight and one that Cyril certainly never thought he would see.  Buffy, he noted, seemed uncomfortable.  "It is a strange sight," he offered quietly, "but do not be concerned.  Regardless of where we are, they are still gargoyles, natural protectors."  Buffy nodded, trying to look reassured.  She was used to killing creatures that looked like this, but had long ago learned not to judge by appearances.  

The visitors were not the only ones staring.  Wherever they passed, the inhabitants would stop and stare at Buffy.  Two small children, slightly younger, she thought, than Ariana ran up to her and stared wide-eyed at her.  "Um, hello," she offered.  One of them, the braver of the two apparently, reached out and touched her hand; then both turned and ran away giggling.  They were met ten steps away by an angry looking female gargoyle who gathered the children to her speaking harshly to them before casting the Slayer a warning glare.

"I take it humans aren't common around here."

"Not exactly," the leader of the small raiding party scoffed.  He was about to say more when a commotion drew their attention.  A large, red skinned male with horns like those of a bull was making his way through the crowd, flanked by an elderly female and a diminutive male.  "Leader," the gargoyles drew themselves up straight.

"What is the meaning of this Second?  Why have you brought a cow to our Hold?"

"Again," Buffy spoke up irritably, "not a cow."  The leader ignored her, but the elderly female regarded her curiously.

"Leader, we encountered these two in the forest while fighting the king's troops.  This one," he indicated Cyril, "insisted on bringing her along.  I knew you would want to meet him."  Cyril stepped forward.

"A pleasure leader.  I am called Cyril.  I'm of the Avalon clan."

"You have a name?" the elder asked curiously.  "You must live closely with the humans."

"We do," Cyril nodded.

"Disgusting," a random voice from the small crowd around them opined.

"Our history tells us that gargoyles and humans lived together in peace," the elder answered.  "It is good to know that that tradition persists in places."

The leader examined Buffy closely for a moment.  "Perhaps that was true once," he turned to the elder.  "Have you forgotten why that changed?"

"I have not forgotten," the elder replied, a note of steel creeping into her tone, "but you have forgotten your manners.  Is this how we greet guests to our home?"  The leader looked down, like a guilty child being chastised by a parent.

"She is right," he said reluctantly turning to Buffy and Cyril.  "Forgive my discourtesy.  We have had difficulties with humans in the past.  I fear your people are not well regarded."

"Kinda got that impression, but I'm not your enemy.  I've gotten along well with gargoyles I've met in the past, and I know you're decent people."  It was a half-truth.  She hadn't gotten on that well with the Manhattan clan, at least not at first.  "Anyway, I don't expect we'll be here long.  As soon as we find a way home we'll need to be going."

"Find a way home?  You don't know where it is?"

"Kind of a long story."

"By all means," the leader answered, sounding intrigued, "let us have a meal and you can tell it to us."

***

"Portals," the elder mused.  "I have heard of such things.  According to the oldest stories, that is how the first gargoyles came to Pylea.  Perhaps there is something in our records that can help you."

"I would really appreciate that," Buffy offered the old gargoyle a sincere smile.

"Indeed.  Any news of portals or a way to find information would be most welcome."

"It is said that the priests controlled the portals," said a gargoyle farther down the table they had all settled around for dinner.  The speaker, a delicate looking female with skin that was a distinctive shade of pale blue and sable hair, received reproving looks from those around her.  "That is the way it is told by the Deathwalk Clan."

"You think these priests could tell us how to get home?" Cyril asked, ignoring the reaction her words had caused.  Buffy glanced around; noting the disapproving looks and wondered at the source of the friction.

"Unlikely," the leader interrupted.  "The priests were overthrown by the Grusulug, and he is unlikely to aid you.  He made many promises, but has kept not a one."  He snorted.  "Equality for all peoples.  Nonsense!"

"It did not happen quite that way leader," the young female objected.  Her words, though timidly spoken brought disapproving glares from around the table.

"Of course," he allowed.  "You would know better young one, as you spend more time with outsiders than you do in your own Hold tending to your work."  The female looked down at the table, shame-faced.  "By all means, enlighten us.  Do something useful by aiding our guests."

Buffy straightened; taking offense at the way the girl was being treated.  Cyril laid a hand on her arm and gave a slight shake of his head.  After a deep breath and a count to ten, she nodded, realizing that aggravating the clan leader would not help their case.  Instead she looked at the gargoyle, and smiled encouragingly.

"Well," the female spoke hesitantly.  "The story is that the prophecy was fulfilled by a female c-, ah human.  She had the visions and the priests elevated her.  They made her princess and summoned the Grusulug to become her mate."  She glanced at Buffy and Cyril.  "You see the Grusulug was the priests' champion.  He killed the dangerous beasts that threatened the peace of the land and kept order among those who questioned the priests."

"An enforcer," Buffy muttered, nodding.

"Not so.  A great warrior to be sure, but he did not kill dissenters.  The priests had their troops for that.  The Grusulug was more a symbol of their power.  All that changed though when the princess came.  A prophecy told of one who was cursed with visions of the future.  She would seal the priests' power when her visions passed to the Grusulug, their servant."

"I take it things didn't go as planned."

"Not at all.  The Grusulug, or so I have heard, fell in love with the princess at first sight.  For her sake he defied the priests and aided the human rebels who overthrew the priests.  One account says that the princess herself slew the head priest.  She lay down the laws by which the Grusulug was to govern."

"So what happened to this princess?"

The blue-skinned female shrugged.  "Accounts vary.  One says that she came to Pylea by a portal herself and used the priests' knowledge to return home.  Another says she was banished by the Grusulug who then seized the throne himself.  It is hard to separate fact from fancy."

"So this Grusulug thing is king now huh?  Princess went away one way or another and he's in charge?"  The gargoyle nodded.  "So what kind of laws did she leave him to work with?"

"Equality regardless of race," she answered promptly.  "An end to slavery for the humans and the right to believe as each person sees fit."

"I think I like this princess.  She have a name?"

"I'm sure she did," the leader answered evenly, "being human, but I've never heard it spoken."  He turned back to the young female and glared.  "Perhaps she knows, being so concerned with matters beyond our Hold."  The female shook her head meekly.  "Regardless, that equality was not granted.  Promises made have not been kept."  He sighed.  "Dangerous though it may be, I believe that the king may be the only one who can help you return to whence you came."

"You are gracious indeed clan leader.  We appreciate any help you can offer," Cyril answered quickly, not sure Buffy would answer in a civil manner.  He could tell that she disapproved of the way the female was being treated, and he shared her sentiments, but it would not do to insult their host.

"We can provide you with maps, set you on the right path, but we cannot venture too far from our Hold."  He sat back after a few more bites of the stew they had been served.  "It will wait until morning though.  For tonight we must rest.  There will be much to do tomorrow."

The group broke up, and the two visitors were shown to rooms set aside for them.  Before parting Buffy drew Cyril aside.  "Thanks," she began simply.  "I probably didn't make much of an impression in there.  The way he was-"

"I know.  I wasn't pleased by the leader's behavior toward the female either, but this is their land, and they have their own ways."

"And its not our business," Buffy finished, accepting it, but still not happy.  She gave him a wry grin.  "I tend to react rather than think things through sometimes.  Gets me into trouble.  Tell you what, you handle the diplomacy, and if something needs killing just point me at it."

"You are considerably more than a weapon," he protested.  "Much more," he added quietly after she had smiled gratefully at him and gone into her room.  Without knowing precisely what he felt for her, it was difficult to know how to proceed.  He knew his brothers and sisters laughed over his brief and sometimes intense infatuations with various females.  It usually didn't bother him.  He enjoyed them in his own way; all of his brothers and sisters were only now really coming of age for mating.  They all had their moments, their infatuations.  Cyril was simply more outspoken.  He sometimes regretted that.  Although he was on good terms with most of them, the females of the clan seemed to no longer take him seriously.

The female Fay certainly didn't.  He had tried his charm on them, but the best result had been a fit of laughter.  Buffy was a different matter.  He had known no humans except the guardian and princess Katherine, and wasn't quite sure what to expect from Buffy.  He certainly didn't know how she would react if he tried to flirt with her as he did with his rookery sisters.  _It's just another infatuation_, he told himself, _grow up_.  He did admire Buffy though; there was no denying that, and no denying that she was beautiful by the standards of any race.  Again, he dismissed those thoughts.  There were more important things to focus on.  They had to get home.  That thought firmly in mind, he went into his room to rest for what was sure to be a busy day.

***

Buffy came awake shortly before dawn to the sounds of gargoyle roars and the clash of weapons.  Pulling on her shoes, the only clothing she had removed in the cold room, she ran through the door to find Cyril already in the corridor looking worried.  "The Hold is under attack," she said without preamble.  "Come on."  She took his hand and pulled him along.

The shock of what was happening wore off quickly as he remembered the weird sisters' attack on Avalon with the Archmage.  He remembered his brothers and sisters scattered about the hall moaning and bleeding while the princess tried to tend to them all.  It would not happen again, he vowed, easily matching the Slayer's pace.

They emerged into the chill night air and saw a group of demons, like those they had fought the day before moving through the Hold attacking the clan.  They struck at males, females, and hatchlings without making any distinction among them.  Buffy was in motion before Cyril had fully taken in the horror before him.  The slope was steep, but she ran at full speed, sure-footed as any gargoyle.  He watched as Buffy slammed into an ax-wielding demon chasing the two hatchlings they had seen the day before.  The demon hit the ground hard, losing his grip on the ax.  The Slayer snatched it from the air and turned it against its owner before moving on to a new opponent.

How had they gotten to the Hold?  Cyril glanced around and soon found the answer.  There were still demons arriving, reinforcements to the large group already present.  They were riding on the backs of large winged creatures.  The flying creatures were vaguely reptilian, but bore no resemblance to the dragons that the magus had described to them.  _Too many legs for a start._  Instead of dashing down the slope as Buffy had, he launched himself into the air to join the defenders flying to meet the mounted demons.  

The rest of the battle passed in a blur and he later remembered it only in flashes.  A sword slashing at his head, a scream as a demon was flung from its mount.  The gargoyle clan's second seized by one of the flying creatures and torn apart; these and other images stayed in his mind like a persistent stain.  He suspected they would be there whenever he closed his eyes for years to come.

Finally though, it was over.  The surviving demons retreated.  There weren't many of them.  Unfortunately the gargoyles had taken heavy casualties as well.  The clan second was dead, as were fifteen other gargoyles.  Buffy heard whimpering from a small niche in the cliff face, just large enough to conceal two small children.  The hatchlings that she had saved earlier were there.  One of them was clearly dead.  The other looked up at her with glassy eyes and hugged the corpse to her.  Buffy went to find help, trying not to think about the blood and the deep, probably fatal, wounds in the survivor's body.  _I should have kept track of them, protected them_, she thought mournfully, shoving aside the memories of those she had saved.  It was the ones she didn't that always mattered.  She directed one of the elders to the hatchlings' hiding place and moved on.  _Like I always do_.  

Her glum thoughts were quickly forgotten when a cry that was equal parts rage and disbelief drew her attention.  She found the leader kneeling over the mangled remains of a demon that was different from the rest.  The skin was green, but this one had hair and horns, two things the others lacked.

"You know him?" Buffy asked tentatively.

"I know of him," the leader growled.  "This is Parduk of the Deathwalk clan."  He rose to his feet and gave rapid orders to the first gargoyle passing by.  Soon two burly males arrived, escorting the blue female who had told them of the princess the night before.  He pointed to the head, which lay near the corpse.  "This," he snarled, "is your doing!"

Her eyes widened and Buffy saw that the young female recognized Parduk.  "I-I don't understand-"

"It is obvious," the leader growled, glaring at her.  "You foolishly gave up the secrets of our Hold to an outsider and he led these attackers to us."

"H-he wouldn't do that!" she protested.  "Someone must have forced-"

"Stupid girl!" he seethed.  "Are you blind?  He is here, and more than a dozen of our number lie dead!"  He advanced on her, a murderous look in his eye.  Buffy, joined by Cyril who had also been drawn by the shouting, moved to intervene before more blood could be spilled.  It wasn't necessary.  "I have a task for you.  Guide our guests to the king's palace.  I'm certain you know the way.  Perhaps your 'friendly outsiders' will give you a new home.  Do not return here.  You are banished."

She stammered for a moment, trying to muster a defense, but gave up after a moment and hung her head.  "Yes leader."

That dealt with, the leader turned to Buffy and Cyril.  "I owe you an apology and a debt of gratitude.  You put yourselves at risk to protect my people after we were less than welcoming to you.  I can offer little I'm afraid, save my thanks and a guide to your best chance to get home."  He nodded at the female.  "Perhaps you could take this one with you to Avalon."  _The more outsiders in Pylea who know of our whereabouts the more dangerous it is for us._  He didn't say it, but he didn't need to.  "I do not know when or if we might face another attack."

"Then perhaps," Cyril offered, "we should be going."

The leader nodded, obviously grateful that he did not have to actually ask them to leave.

***

An hour later, the three of them left the mesa and flew south, carrying what supplies they could.  They spoke little as they traveled, their guide was subdued, barely meeting their eyes, let alone speaking to them.  

Roughly two hours after leaving, they stopped for a rest.  Cyril approached the female carefully, unsure of how to speak to her.  "How long will it take to reach the king's castle?"

"Perhaps two days," she answered mechanically, looking as bleak as anyone Cyril had ever seen.  She did not elaborate or even meet his eyes, as if afraid of what she would see there.  What did she expect to see, Cyril wondered?  Condemnation?  Hate?

"I wish I knew how to help you," he blurted out.  She looked at him oddly.  "I do not believe what happened was your fault."

"It was," she disagreed.  "I trusted Parduk.  I talked with him while we traded, I told him about our lives.  He must have figured out where we lived."

"You didn't tell him?"  Buffy asked.

"Of course not!" the gargoyle's eyes widened in shock at the suggestion.  "I was commanded not to do so.  Any who dealt with the other races were."  She looked down quickly.  "He must have figured it out though.  He must have somehow known."

"He wasn't armed," Buffy commented, remembering the details.  The female said nothing.  "Doesn't that seem strange?  He came to attack your hold, but he wasn't armed?"

"I-I noticed," she answered in a small voice.

"Why did you say nothing to the leader?"  Cyril asked in astonishment.  "You may have been right about his being forced to help your attackers!"

"It would not matter."  The answer was so quiet that Buffy barely heard it.  "He knew because of me, and that is why the hold was attacked, why people are dead."

"What I still don't understand," Buffy asked instead, "is why they attacked.  What were they after?"

"I don't know.  We don't have anything anyone would want.  We've always stayed apart from the other races.  We don't bother anyone so it can't be a grudge."  She shook her head in frustration.  "I just don't know!"

"Perhaps then," Cyril suggested, "we should find out."

"What are you suggesting?" Buffy asked.

"I can't simply walk away when her clan may be in danger."  Buffy looked uncertain.  "What if another attack comes?  If we learn the reason behind this, we may be able to prevent more violence."

"Okay," Buffy couldn't argue with that, and she didn't want to.  This was the sort of thing she did all the time back home after all.  If she was defending gargoyles instead of a human community, it was only a small difference in her mind.  "So we track the bad guys and find out what they want.  First step to stopping them."

Cyril nodded.  "I suggest we start with this 'Deathwalk Clan.'  Perhaps we will learn something from them."  The others nodded in agreement.

"Before we move on," Buffy started hesitantly, "one thing."  Cyril and the female looked at her expectantly.  "I've heard about the tradition of gargoyles not taking names for themselves.  Don't really understand it… I mean, how do you tell each other apart?"

"You wish to have something to call me," she surmised smiling.  "Yes, the outsiders I dealt with had the same problem."  She considered a moment.  "A merchant of the Swiftkill clan, one I often dealt with for supplies that the Hold could not produce, took to calling me Sky at Dawn."  Her coloring grew slightly darker as she blushed and lowered her voice as if admitting a shameful secret.  "I liked it."

"Well, with your coloring," Buffy smiled, "that certainly works.  Mind if we call you Sky for short?"

"That will do."  She looked around self-consciously.  "We should go.  The home of the Deathwalk clan is nearly an hour's journey from here."

***

"So what's the hold-up?" Spike asked looking at the portal.  "If that's where Buffy is, why can't you find her?"

"Its not exactly a broom closet on the other side of that you know?" Anya answered, pushing him away.  "Don't distract her.  We have a time-limit."

"So you pulled us back first," Spike noted looking around.  "Who else is missing?"

"Buffy, Willow, Tara, and Xander.  Two of the gargoyles too." Spike looked pensive.  "Oberon says we only have an hour before he closes the portals himself, so don't bother her.  I want Xander back."  They glanced back to the portal Queen Titania stood before.  She hadn't moved in some time, but her eyes were closed and there was an expression of intense concentration on her face.  The princess and guardian stood with Giles and a few members of the clan who looked on with barely controlled frustration.

"It's all up to Queen Titania.  Leave her to it."

***

They backtracked for a time before Sky recognized a landmark and directed them east toward the Deathwalk clan's home.  Circling what looked like a farmhouse with a thatched roof brought them some unwanted attention.  Several green-skinned demons came out into the open and looked on as they came in for a landing.  

Five unhappy looking demons watched them land.  Buffy couldn't tell whether they were unhappy with her presence or that of the gargoyles.  Sky stepped forward and spoke quietly to a large bearded demon.  Buffy assumed he was the big daddy demon, head of the family.  "Buffy, Cyril," Sky approached with the others following close.  "This is Anras, Matriarch of the Deathwalk clan."  _Okay, big mommy demon_, Buffy nodded, keeping her face neutral.  They were there to deliver bad news after all.

"Sky at Dawn tells me there is news of Parduk."  She glanced disdainfully at Buffy, but didn't comment.  In fact she seemed intent on ignoring her.  "What is the meaning of this?  Where is he?"

"Just before Dawn," Cyril told her, "the Hold was attacked by the forces that serve the king.  Parduk was among them.  I… am sorry to tell you that he did not survive the battle."  Questions erupted from the entire family and it was a few moments before anyone could get a straight answer.  "We don't know why the Hold was attacked, but we do know that Parduk wasn't armed, and that his wounds were not made by gargoyle talons."

"We think," Buffy cut in, "that he was forced to show them the way to the Hold."

"We have no quarrel with the gargoyles," Anras protested, ignoring Buffy.  "We have no reason to attack you, nor does the Grusulug."

"Then why were his soldiers attacking us?"  Sky asked.  "They wore the livery of the king.  They were undoubtedly his soldiers."

"Who knows why that half-cow does anything," Anras spat.  Buffy blinked.  "He could have done as the priests requested and everything would have been fine.  Everything could have stayed as it was," she began a bitter and, Buffy guessed an oft-repeated, rant.  "But no!  He had to fall for that cow princess and try to run the land her way.  Free the slaves indeed!"  Sky opened her mouth to protest, but the other was clearly just getting warmed up.  "Now his foolishness has somehow cost us cousin Parduk!"  

"We want to understand what happened," Sky interrupted.  "Why would the king's army attack the Hold?  Will they do it again?"

"Why did they kill Parduk if he was helping them?" Cyril asked puzzled.  Anras turned a fierce glare on him.  Cyril held his ground though, continuing hastily.  "We found no weapons on him.  It could be they were forcing him."

"I might not like the new laws," Anras growled, "but the Deathwalk clan are not law breakers.  We would not act against the new king."

"Who would?" Buffy asked, beginning to wonder at the story the gargoyle leader had told them.

Anras considered the question seriously a moment.  "There are many who are not happy with the changes the cow wrought in our land.  Some of those might not only wish a return to the old ways but actively work towards it."  

"You think these soldiers might be renegades?"  Sky asked, the notion seeming to shock her.  "Would they dare act without the king's bidding?"

Anras gave her what might be considered a pitying look.  "Not all are as loyal to their leaders as gargoyles are to theirs."  Her fierce expression softened somewhat.  "It is possible.  Although I do not know why they would attack your home, it seems the most likely explanation.  How do your kin fair?"

"The attackers were turned away with heavy casualties, but we lost more than a dozen of our people."  Anras nodded sadly if somewhat brusquely.  Sky turned to her traveling companions.  "We should go straight to the king.  If these are indeed renegades then the king should know at once.  It might prevent another attack."

"He should know what we saw when we arrived too," Buffy added.  "If this king is enforcing the law that freed the slaves he should know that he's being ignored."

They set out at once, bound for the Grusulug's castle.  The journey took a good part of the day, but they arrived shortly before sunset.  The castle looked like nothing out of a book of fairy tales.  There were no high, delicate towers, nor was there a moat with a drawbridge.  It was ugly; a large, blocky, and very solid looking structure, clearly built to withstand a siege, just not the type of siege that seemed to be underway.

"What in the world?"  Buffy watched the crowd outside the castle.  It wasn't an army of any sort as far as she could tell, but the castle was under siege nonetheless.  "What's this about?"

"Petitioners."  Sky replied.  "People seeking an audience with the king or one of his officials."

"Which means getting in to see him is not going to be easy."  She looked at the crowd, trying to estimate its size.  "Don't know about you, but I've got better things to do with the rest of my life."

"We can't afford to wait," Sky agreed.

"And if his own troops are betraying him," Cyril, continued, "we can't risk talking to anyone else about it."  Buffy nodded in agreement, thinking quickly.  She pointed to a spot on the wall but Cyril pre-empted her.  "We can't land on the walls or anywhere inside the castle.  They'll have guards waiting to shoot down unwanted flying guests."

"They do," Sky agreed.  "We'll have to approach by foot."  They landed on the road approaching the castle.  It was not too crowded, and most of the travelers they did see were of two types, the gray skinned soldiers of the kind that had attacked Sky's home, and the green skinned demons that seemed to make up the majority of the regions inhabitants.  There were humans however, small clusters here and there.  All of the humans appeared tense and wary of those around him.

They tried to hide it, walking with heads held high and without clustering too closely together, but Buffy could see how tense they were.  They did not mingle freely with the other travelers on the road.   The other species seemed relatively comfortable with each other.  There was similar 'clustering' among the other races, but not to the same degree, and she found herself wondering what it might have been like in southern towns back home, in the late 1860s.  

Hopefully it would work out for the humans.  Hopefully their road would not be as rough.

Shaking off these thoughts, she focused on possible threats around them.  With so many demons about, what she referred to as her 'Slayer sense' was practically screaming at her.  She didn't perceive any immediate threat, despite the strange looks her companions were getting, but being surrounded by demons, many of which were armed, had her on high alert.  So she knew that the soldiers were taking an interest in them before the others realized they were there.  A quiet warning to Cyril and Sky got them ready to fight.

To her surprise though, the soldiers approached them openly.  Their leader raised a hand to forestall any violence.  "You, Gargoyle.  Are you of the hold that lives two days march from here?"  He indicated the direction of the mesa.

"Who are you and what business is it of yours?" Buffy asked moving between her friends and the soldier.  The soldier in charge regarded her contemptuously.  Sky stepped in hastily.

"I am.  What do you want with us?"  The soldier turned to her, dismissing Buffy without a second glance.

"I am captain Skal of the King's army.  We have been trying to track the movements of a group of soldiers that have broken away, turned to banditry.  A rumor of a movement against a Gargoyle Hold reached us from a spy.  We do not know when the attack will come though."

"It already came," Buffy answered shortly.

"That is why we are here," Sky explained.  

Skal shook his head angrily.  "Please come with us.  You need to tell your story to the king.  We are trying to keep word of such attacks from getting out."

"Makes sense," Buffy put in coldly.  "If no one knows about the threat they can't effectively defend themselves against it.  Makes for easier pickings doesn't it?"  The soldier turned on her abruptly, but kept his voice low.  Most of the crowd they had been moving with had pulled away at the approach of the soldiers, but Skal was still being cautious about being overheard.

"If you have accusations to make against me and evidence to support them you can tell the king."  He brought his temper under control with an effort.  "Now.  If you're quite through telling me how to do my job, the king is this way."

"He is offering us what we want Buffy," Cyril pointed out reasonably, "and you have no reason to suspect him of complicity in the attack on the hold."  She nodded reluctantly, but eyed the soldiers around them suspiciously.  "Please captain, lead the way."

Their course took them, not down the road to the castle gate, but to a side road that circled around it, away from the other travelers.  Buffy's suspicions grew as she watched the castle and the crowd dwindle in the distance.  The captain's expression gave nothing away, and the soldiers were equally stone-faced.  Entering a particularly dense copse of trees, Buffy noticed a movement from above and stepped to the side in time to avoid the silent attack.

Two of the soldiers were dead before they even knew they were under attack, but the remainder responded admirably.  Buffy drove a fist into a walrus like face and felt bone crack.  The creature fell away and Buffy spun to even the odds Captain Skal was facing.  He gave her a grateful look as she tossed the corpse of one of his attackers into the bushes.

The attack ended as quickly as it began.  The surviving creature vanished into the woods as quickly as they'd come.  Three of the soldiers were dead and two others were wounded.  "Okay," Buffy asked, scanning the trees for signs of their attackers,  "anyone want to tell me what that was about?"

"Those were Ilgre," the Skal informed her.  "They once were elite assassins serving the priesthood.  Zealots," he added distastefully.

"Do you think the priests might be behind the attack on my Hold?"  Sky asked, worriedly.  The idea was a disturbing one, as the priests had seemed to vanish after being driven from power.  Rumors had flown for a while that they were merely in hiding waiting the chance to seize power again.

"Possible," Skal acknowledged.  "We're looking into all possibilities."  He took a moment to orient himself and then gestured for them to follow.  "Come.  The entrance is close."  He led them to a tunnel entrance and through what Buffy guessed was an escape tunnel should the castle ever come under siege.  It led to a storeroom deep in the castle.  

Skal led them to a private office while one of his guards was sent to inform the king.  A short time later, two men entered.  The first was an imposing, if harried looking, man in an elaborate robe and a gold circlet on his head.  He was followed by a short, rail thin man carrying a book of some sort.  Buffy took him to be an aide or advisor.  The first man looked over his visitors and seemed to come to a decision.  He shrugged out of the robe with a relieved expression, much to the quickly hidden disapproval of his aide.  Under the robe was clothing not that different than that worn by the people they had seen outside.  The only thing distinguishing him now was the gold circlet he wore.

"I am Grusulug, king of Pylea.  Please sit and tell me your names."  The directness and lack of formality surprised the three visitors, but they did as he asked.  They could all see he was grateful for the interruption to his work and the chance, however briefly to relax.  Introductions were made and they launched into their story.  

The king listened with growing concern to their account of the battle and to Skal's report.  Sky summarized their conclusions for him.  With a sigh, the king sat back and closed his eyes.  "I believe you may be right.  This seems a concerted effort to undermine my authority."

"Well, having your army desert to raid villages would sure do that," Buffy admitted, "but I'm not really sure what can be done to stop it.  I mean by the time you got word of this attack it was long over."

"The source of this problem needs to be found," Cyril agreed.

"That is obvious," the thin man who had not spoken before said rudely.  "Unfortunately it may not help."

"What do you mean Laars?"  The king looked at his aide with a slight frown.

"You have always asked me to speak plainly Majesty, and I will do so now for your own good.  Even if it is the case that there is a single person or body behind the problems that have arisen since you assumed the throne, it remains the case that you haven't been able to protect the people or to hold your troops' loyalty.  If they can be so easily swayed or bought off then the problem is indeed serious."  The king nodded.  "Whether it is a concerted effort by one person or party or the disaffection of numerous groups and individuals is almost irrelevant."  

"If that is the case," the king noted soberly, "then bringing the leader, if there is one, to justice, won't solve the problem.  We need a different approach."

"It would be a beginning," Buffy pointed out, "but I you're right."  She paused a moment.  "Not to be to obvious, but we have a different problem… At least Cyril and I do."

"Indeed?"  The king nodded, almost grateful for a new problem, one that he could perhaps find a ready solution to.  "Please, tell me.

They did, explaining about Glory and how they had come to Pylea.  Grusulug listened thoughtfully, then nodded.  "I have to get back to my sister.  She's in danger and I've already been here nearly two days.  Who knows what Glory is doing to my sister?"

"And my home," Cyril added.  Buffy nodded.  "We have to get back, and we are told that the priests had texts that would open portals to other worlds.  If you still have those texts…"

"We have them," the king nodded.  "I have maintained their library, and I have archivists and scholars who can read them and create the portals.  We should be able to help you get home."  He turned to his aide.  "Laars.  Consult the scholars and see what they will need."

"Yes Majesty."  Laars bowed slightly and withdrew.

"While we wait," he turned back to his guests, "I want you to tell me everything about the attack.  The soldiers' armor and colors for instance, were there crests?  Markings of any sorts to indicate which lord they serve?"

"They wore armor and the colors of your own troops."  She indicated Skal.  "Like his."  

"All of my men were accounted for, Majesty.  It is not possible that anyone under my command had a hand in this."

"What about armor and weapons?"  Cyril asked.  "Is everything accounted for?"

The king looked intrigued at this question.  "Indeed.  If there has been a theft, catching the thief could lead us to the people behind this."

"I will call for an inventory at once," Skal bowed and, with a nod from the king, departed.  

"You don't stand on formality around here do you?"

"Too many years on the battlefield," the king nodded.  "Before I was king I was the priests' champion.  I traveled the land destroying vicious creatures, threats to the populace."  He sighed.  "Now the threats are different, and I am unable to deal with them as I once did."

Buffy nodded sympathetically.  "Makes it a lot easier when there's an enemy you can hit right in front of you.  I've been there."  While they waited for the answers to their questions the two champions began to trade stories.

***

Laars completed his errand for the king and then headed f or the servants' quarters to tend to one of his own.  The woman he found there abandoned her subservient manner when she saw it was him and that he was alone.

"Do you have news Laars?"  He quickly told her what had transpired and gave instructions as to how to proceed.  "It will be done.  This will aid our cause greatly.  Soon… Imagine it, no priests, no king, just the people deciding how they should live, choosing their own leaders."  The vision seemed to inspire her.   "I'll take word to the others."

"Soon hopefully," Laars muttered.  "These raids are becoming worse.  We can't justify the revolt if it comes at such a price."

"I know it's hard," she agreed, "but it's the only way, and it will be worth it."  

"I'll make sure there's no evidence.  Can you be back by tomorrow?"

"I'll have news from Caliz by noon."  

Laars nodded and two parted company.  Caliz, Laars reflected, had seemed so confident.  He had put to rest all of their doubts about the rightness of the cause.  Once the people were in control of their own destiny there would be true equality.  Everyone, Caliz said, would have a say in how the government was run and in the laws that were made.  First though, people had to lose faith in a strong and popular king.  The day would come soon, Laars knew, when Caliz would call for revolution, and the people would rally to him.  Soon, he hoped.  Before much more blood was spilled.

***

"Well who's your main opponent?" Buffy asked.  "Anyone in particular been complaining?"

Considering carefully, the king nodded.  "Caliz has often spoken out, calling for greater accountability."  He shook his head.  "I don't understand what he means."

"It means," Buffy said, "that he wants you answerable to someone.  We had problems back home with kings abusing their power.  I'm guessing these priests pretty much rode roughshod over everyone.  Kept people to scared to try to change things?"

"Indeed," Sky nodded.  "That was the way of it."

"How are things different in your world?"  The king asked, honestly intrigued.

"I think the question we should be asking," Buffy answered, 'is; could it be this Caliz guy behind the attacks?"

The king shook his head impatiently.  "No.  Caliz is an idealist.  He would not taint what he sees as a noble cause with innocent blood."  His tone was confident and Buffy let it go.  After all, the king knew these people better than she did, or would ever have a chance to if they could just get that portal open.

"What of Caliz' followers?"  Cyril asked.  "Are they all idealists?"  Frowning thoughtfully Grusulug considered the question.  "If someone is acting without his knowledge…"

"Possible, but unlikely.  An undertaking of this scale, organizing the raids, hiring mercenaries or bribing soldiers… it would not go unnoticed by Caliz."  He sighed.  "He is a thorn in my side, but he is not a villain."  Grimacing as he remembered something, the king glanced at the door to the room.  "One of his committees is here now, waiting for a response to a yet another new proposal.  I think it is his plan to drown me in ink and bury me in parchment."  He considered a moment and then repeated his earlier question.  "Perhaps I can find a solution in your world.  How does your king manage?"

"Well…" Buffy hesitated a moment before launching into a description of the basics of the democratic process.  Grusulug listened with great interest, nodding and asking questions several times.

"I believe this could be used to my advantage here.  If the people selected representatives it would at least eliminate some portion of the crowd at my gate."

"Glad I could help," Buffy smiled uncertainly, not at all sure she had helped.

"I believe I will call Caliz for a meeting.  Thorn in my side though he may be, he does want the best for the people, as I do."  He stood.  "Please, wait here, I may have questions.  The archivist will come to you when he has found what you seek."  All three nodded, and the king left, looking considerably happier than when he had entered.

"Well, we may have solved one problem for him," Buffy looked glumly after the king.

"Without slaying anything," Cyril added.

"Always a plus," she nodded, although she honestly couldn't remember a solution to a serious problem that didn't involve killing something.  "I don't think I've ever heard of a king so eager to give up power."

"Give up power?"  Sky asked.  "It will come to that?"

Buffy shrugged.  "That's generally the way it goes.  Elected officials get more powerful until the king is basically a figurehead."  She paused, considering.  "I don't think I emphasized that did I?"  The others shook their heads.  "Hmm.  Oh great."

"I'm honestly not certain it will matter to him," Cyril opined.  "He seems less than comfortable in his role.  At least he seems very tired."

"Maybe," Buffy nodded, but something about the whole situation was still bothering her.  Unfamiliar as she was with politics, something about the situation had her spider sense tingling.

***

Caliz received the messenger from the king with interest.  Of late, he reflected, the king had tended to avoid meetings with him.  _What has change,_ he wondered, _that he wishes to see me now?_

Not wishing to irritate the king with delays and spoil whatever mood had brought on the desire for a meeting and possible progress toward his goals, Caliz hastily gathered his closest advisors and his latest proposals, and left immediately for his audience with the Grusulug.

***

Laars reentered the room almost an hour after the king's departure.  "I have news of your way home."  The three listened attentively.  "The scholars have found a way to return you to the place you came from, in essence retracing your steps to this Avalon you mentioned.  It is complex though, and it will take time to set up.  You should be able to return by midday tomorrow though."

"Another day?"  Buffy's face fell.

"Remember," Cyril put in, "time passes differently on Avalon.  For each day that passes in the outside world, an hour passes on Avalon."  He considered, "since this is not our world the difference may be more pronounced.  I do not know, but little can be gained by fretting over it."  Buffy nodded.  "Are your scholars aware of the time difference," he asked suddenly.  "if that will cause problems…"

"I told them of the difference," Laars assured him.  "They say it will make no difference in their effort to open the portal, but they were unsure how much time will have passed when you return."

"I guess we'll just hope for the best," Buffy shrugged.

"We are grateful for your efforts," Cyril, ever the diplomat, spoke up.  

Laars nodded, then looked around.  "Where is the king?"

"He went to arrange a meeting with someone called Caliz."  Cyril's news surprised Laars and he hurried out to find the king.  

Laars found him speaking to two of Caliz' men.  "-Caliz will arrive within the hour Majesty.  I am certain he will be most eager for this audience."

"Good.  Then-.  Ah Laars.  What say the scholars?"

"It can be done Majesty, and will be.  Preparation will take a little time, but they will be ready by noon tomorrow."  The king nodded in satisfaction.  "Majesty, may I ask…"

"Yes?"

"You plan a meeting with Caliz.  Is there anything you require to prepare?"

"You are curious," the king smiled slightly.  "Very well, come with me and we'll discuss it with our guests."  With a nod of dismissal to Caliz supporters he led the way back to the room where the outlander and the two gargoyles waited.  "I believe we can reach an accommodation with Caliz that will satisfy everyone."

"Wonderful news Majesty," Laars agreed, genuinely surprised by this turn of events.  If the king were willing to make concessions, perhaps a full-scale revolution would not be necessary.  

***

Laars met Caliz at the castle gate.  Many of the people in the crowd, he noted, were chanting the man's name.  He knew the king was watching and noting the same thing.  Hopefully it would encourage him to be cooperative.

Caliz smiled at the crowd and followed Laars inside.  He would have loved to ask his faithful spy what the king had in mind, but he might be overheard, and he dared not compromise Laars' position.  It had proven far too valuable.

Upon entering the king's private office he was surprised to see a human female and two gargoyles.  Most likely, he realized, they were from the hold he had ordered attacked the day before.  Perhaps that was what had precipitated the meeting?  If so the king had a weaker stomach than Caliz had imagined.  He had anticipated having to do much more damage with his 'rogue' soldiers before the king was ready to talk terms.

"Welcome Caliz," the fool rose nodded genially as Caliz bowed.  "Please sit.  We have much to discuss."  Caliz complied silently and waited for the king to continue.  "Word has reached me of another attack by renegade elements of my own army."  Caliz was an accomplished actor, and had no trouble looking first shocked, and then pained by the idea of more senseless violence.

"How bad?" he asked, as if dreading the answer.

"Bad enough," the king glanced at Sky.

"Twelve were killed, many more wounded."  Caliz stared at the gargoyle in shock.  "They attacked a gargoyle hold?  Why?  Gargoyles interact so little with the rest of Pylea that these raiders could not have believed you had anything valuable."  He backpedaled a bit.  "I mean that-"

"The Hold contained nothing outsiders would have consider valuable?"  Cyril offered politely.

"Yes.  Precisely," Caliz assured them.  Sky nodded, acknowledging the slip.

"I take no offense sir, as it is quite true.  We suspect that the attack was part of a plan to undermine the king's authority, to create the perception that he cannot control his own troops."

"It fits with the pattern that seems to be emerging," the king reasoned.  "This isn't the first attack that seems to lack a… monetary motive."

Caliz blinked slowly considering.  "You may be right Majesty.  I have wondered at the motive of some of the attacks myself.  I simply assumed that I did not have all the facts.  Do you truly believe someone is…  Majesty it is unthinkable! "  

"It is the only thing that makes sense," the Grusulug concluded, studying Caliz' reaction.  He was forced to consider Buffy's suggestion that Caliz was behind the attacks, even if he was not inclined to believe it.  The other's reaction though was sufficient to convince him that he had been right the first time.  "We believe the priesthood did not take their banishment well."

All three of the visitors had watched Caliz' reaction to the news carefully.  Sky seemed satisfied with his display of shock and concern.  Cyril withheld judgment on the matter, as he knew nothing of Caliz or the gray skinned species he represented.  Buffy distrusted him, mostly because he wasn't human.  Non-humans, even those with the best intentions like gargoyles, set off her Slayer sense, the one that told her she was in the presence of a threat.  She had largely learned to ignore it, almost, but not quite dismissing it as xenophobia something to be overcome.  

Caliz seemed earnest, but she still didn't trust him.  It was most likely, she knew, the fact that he was a demon, and that alone was not reason to distrust him.  She kept her doubts to herself.

"With news of the attack," the king continued, "came a possible solution."  He introduced his three guests.  "This outlander, Buffy, has told me of some of the laws and customs of her own land."  Caliz sat forward and listened to what the king proposed.  It fell short of what Caliz wanted, but it was a beginning.  

_Its not enough, but perhaps_, he thought, _this can still be turned to my advantage_.  "I'm intrigued," he said aloud.  "This could be a compromise we could both live with.  There are details to be discussed, but we can work together."

"I think," the king nodded, "that if we can reach an accord we can bring an end to these raids."

"Then let us plan."

***

They talked lat into the night, and Buffy, somewhat out of her element, did what she could to help, although Cyril had to smooth over some of her more acerbic comments, restating what she said in a more diplomatic fashion.  In the end, they arrived at an arrangement that suited them both, even if none of the visitors understood it.  

"So let me get this straight.  You need to be overthrown in order for this to work.  So… Caliz is going to do a dance?"

"The dance of revolution," the king agreed.  "It will largely be for show.  I will retain my role as king, but the people will have much of the responsibility for governing themselves."  He seemed surprised.  "You provided the basic idea.  I would have thought you would be pleased."

"Oh… It sounds great, but it just seems to be happening a bit quick.  I mean, back home things like this usually took a long time and involved a lot of fighting.  Guess I'm just surprised."

"It might have come to that," Caliz nodded.  "Happily, we all want the same thing, what is best for the people.  More importantly, we agree on what that is."

"We are all pleased if surprised that it has turned out so well," Cyril cut off what Buffy was about to say, concerned that her doubts might sour the good mood that had been established.

"There is still work ahead," Caliz acknowledged, "but I'm confident that everyone will be happy with the result.  Do not think we are deluding ourselves.  We know there will be resistance to change and there will be dissent."

"We have a long way to go," the king agreed, "but I believe in this plan."  Buffy gave her best encouraging smile and tried to relax for their benefit.  "And soon," the king added, "you will be on your way home."

Buffy sighed in relief.  "Not that it hasn't been lovely, of course."  The king gave an amused chuckle.

"You should get some sleep.  You have been a great help to us.  Helping you get home is the least we can do.  After a good night's sleep."  He rose to his feet.  "Laars, show our guests to their rooms."

"Yes, Majesty."  He turned to the three visitors.  "This way please."

***

"Something is affecting the portal," Titania frowned.  Something was pushing at the barrier Oberon had established.  "I believe someone is trying to open it from the other side."  She withdrew the barrier and stood ready, not sure what would emerge.

"Is it Buffy?"  Dawn pressed forward, but Giles held her back.

"We'll know soon enough Dawn."

As they watched, the portal changed.  It widened and assumed an entirely different character, looking, Dawn thought, like a Star Trek special effect.  She winced slightly over that analogy; sure she'd never be able to watch the show or one of the movies again.

A moment later, Buffy and two gargoyles emerged from the portal and Titania sealed it behind them.  Dawn ran to hug her sister and Gabriel moved to greet Cyril and the unfamiliar gargoyle.

***

Caliz rode alone to the rendezvous.  The strangers who had so aided his plans were gone.  _Good riddance_.  The winged beast and the cow had been a serious test of his patience.  That was in the past though, and he would not see them again.

Dismounting in the small clearing located nearly a half-league into the woods from the road that led from the castle to his home, he knelt and waited.  The length of time required varied.  He had been kept waiting for nearly a day once.  Other times he was called quickly.

"Report."  Apparently his master was eager to hear the news.

"We have succeeded beyond our initial expectations."  He described, in detail, what had occurred, not once looking up.  Finally the other approached him.

"I am pleased.  This new government you describe will be easy to manipulate, especially if we take the necessary steps while it is forming.  When the time has come, it will be easy to overthrow."  Caliz said nothing.  It wasn't, he knew, his place to speak.  "Listen carefully Caliz to what must be done now.  Succeed and you will be richly rewarded when the Order takes control again and the priests once more rule this land."

THE END FOR NOW


End file.
